The Life of a Ghent Soldier
by OneWhoCan'tWrite
Summary: The story of a regular Ghent soldier and his life in the war against the Kartels.
1. Edward Sarge

I was inspired/influenced by the novel "All Quiet on the Western Front," so if there are some scenes that seem similar, that's why. Anyways, my first fanfic that I've completed fully, I hope you enjoy it.

* * *

Chapter 1: Edward Sarge

My name is Edward Sarge. I am 22 years old. I am a Ghent soldier. I did not volunteer to be a soldier, I was merely forced to. Over the years I've been here, I've met several people that became my friends. Thomas (Tom) Friesly, the soldier who could make a bleak situation into a grand event. Jones O'Reilly, the joker who lifts people's spirits, and can still hold his own in battle. John Terres, the knowledgeable man who you can learn from, for what he knows saves people daily. And Bobby Westheld, one of the nicest people you would ever meet, and one with many stories throughout his life. They were all forced here too. It's not like it's too bad. We have become friends by being here, and we never have too many casualties. We always joke and play, yet on the frontline we kill efficiently. The Kartels are dangerous people though, and while we do not have too many casualties, we still have casualties. It's silly for me to think that we would be invincible and emerge victorious. The new recruits make mistakes and they die because of such. There is no mercy from the Kartels. It is queer though, for I was once a recruit and seeing them reminds me of my younger self. Oh how lucky I was to have survive to where I am now. That's mostly how it is when you're a recruit, you must be lucky. The things they teach you will not help as much as being on the field. You could learn all you want, but until you have experienced being in the war, you are still clueless. And many recruits die from this, all the which that makes me think of my own past.


	2. Mother

Chapter 2: Mother

I was raised to be nice and polite. I am always so with my mother and sister. My father has died, but my sister is here, so my mother does not worry about being alone. I remember when I was even younger and my mother and I would bake cookies. What a wonderful time it was, my mother looked so happy. The joys of being with one's comforting mother is a special and terrible thought all the same. Wouldn't we all like to be with our mothers in the war? Wouldn't we all like to be safe and sheltered and look after each other? It is great, love is great. But it is bad, for such thoughts weakens a soldier. I will never forget the time when we found out I was to be in the war. My mother cried, the tears flowing down her face. It was then that I noticed that her looks were aging faster, faster because of me being in the war. One night, she was in my room and she sat down on the bed with me.

"How much longer until you must leave?" she asked.

"In about 2 weeks." I answered, knowing the sadness that resonated in her question. She laid her head on my shoulder, and I felt as though she was crying again.

"Why must you go though? Why my child..." she was silent for a bit. And the silence was deafening, I did not know how to respond, how to console my mother.

"They need more troops, they are losing the battle against the Kartels." I said after a while.

My mother was quiet still. After a bit, she said, "Will you be able to come back?"

I thought about this myself. _I would love to come back, I wish I could never leave._ "I shall come back, Mother. I promise this." As these words came out, I could feel myself choking. The tears were slowly going to my eyes. _Could I keep such a promise?_

My mother thought the same, for she asked, "Can you really promise such a thing? I would love nothing more than to see you again."

"...Yes, I swear that I shall come back." My head became heavy. Uttering that phrase alone took too much of my energy. My mother stood up.

"Okay then, we have two weeks before you go. Let's try to make it enjoyable, for the both us." She said and then went out.

I could not sleep that night, the thoughts in my head were too troublesome. _Would I really come back? Who knows what might happen. If I do die, what will become of my mother? My sister can take care of her. But if I die, that will be two people that my mother has lost. Argh, why must it be me? Why must a war like this cause such problems?_

The two weeks went by fast. I hate it when it goes by fast. Two nights before I was destined to leave, I went to my mother. I laid on her shoulder, and I cried. My mother cried too, she knew what I was thinking. It was the final night for me to be such a boy. The night before, we slept soundly, for I needed to for the upcoming train ride. Finally, on the day of my new life, my mother and sister went with me to the train. We hugged and kissed.

"Good bye, my brother." My sister said, I think she was proud of me for helping the people of Ghent.

"Good bye, my son." My mother said, and I could see the traces of tears in the redness of her eyes.

"Good bye, my sister and mother." My throat felt terrible. I hugged them one last time and kissed them once more. Then I boarded the train and looked out the window. They were waving good bye, and I waved back.

That was my last thought. _Good bye, sister. Good bye, Mother..._


	3. Training Days

Chapter 3: Training Days

I was 19 when I left and boarded that train. So many people there, and yet I felt so alone. They were singing two lines repeatedly: "To arms and to battle! We shall not be rattled!" These energetic people, how are they so happy about this? How does one become ecstatic, so elated about being forced to join the army? Is it pride? Are they glad that they're called to serve and protect our Ghent homes? Is it something else? I do not know, even if I did, I might not even believe it.

It was during training where I met my new friends. We were on the same squad, and I would never wish for it to be different. I find it funny that the one to toughen us up, the one to boss us around, to be harsh and prepare us to have a certain mentality for war, was just a bartender. Sure, he was indeed harsh and toughened us up, but it makes one laugh to think that a bartender would be so superior that he would actually boss around recruits. His name was Tori, at least that's what he preferred to be called. No one knew his full name exactly, but he was apparently one of the nicest bartenders to ever live. I did not see what was so good about him. Neither did my squad, and so we tried to play a prank on him. John Terres was the only one to object from it.

"I don't know, you guys, something's up with him." Terres said. "I just got a feeling about this..."

Over time, it seems that whenever Terres had a feel about something, he would surely be right about it. But at this point, what do we care? This Tori guy is only a bartender! What could he do besides yell at us angrily while we laugh ourselves away?

Friesly, O'Reilly, Westheld, and I went to find Tori. Of course, being that he was a bartender, it's obvious that he would be in a bar. The plan was for Tori to be chloroformed, give him a few blows, and then take some of his beer and spirits. Friesly was to distract him while O'Reilly was to chloroform him. And so, when we went to the only bar in town, it was empty except for Tori. Friesly went right ahead and started talking to him. It was working, O'Reilly was going in with the chloroform. But we did not expect what happened next. Tori quickly countered O'Reilly and then started to attack Friesly! Grabbing hold of them, he threw them at us. There we were, piled against a wall.

"Hmph, do you really think that you could pull some childish antics on me? Please, I might be a bartender, but I've gotten more experience fighting and being in the war than all of you combined." He said.

"What? Then why are you a bartender?" I asked.

"Heh, wouldn't you like to know?" Tori said, and then left.

That baffled us, but we never tried anything with him again. Friesly was right, he was something else. We respected Tori, and he gave us free drinks. Perhaps the prank turned out bad, but we had a new friendship. Though to this day, we are still puzzled about his past and why he chose to be a bartender.


	4. A Brother to Gain, a Brother to Lose

Chapter 4: A Brother to Gain, A Brother to Lose

There was actually another friend that I met during training. His name was Zack Mikapi. Out of all of us, he's the one who would rarely get into trouble. Tell him an order, expect him to do it without complaints. That's why we never told him about our failed prank. Nonetheless, he was a good kid. To me though, he was more like a brother. An older brother, he would protect me a lot during battles when we were recruits. Again I say I'm lucky, to have someone like Mikapi was a godsend. While it's mostly luck for me, Mikapi was one of those who was born to have that much skill. We would often talk about our family, and we had so much in common. That is why I felt as though he was a brother. Was it bad to have someone like Mikapi to depend on? Perhaps, perhaps not. I did not grow weak and soft, he helped me to become a strong and hardened soldier. For that, I owe him many thanks and gifts. But all of that help did not do much for me during that fateful day. We were lying in a hole trying to avoid gunfire. There were shells bombarding the area, and even if you are not a recruit, you must still be lucky. The shells can hit a hole, and limbs would fly off. Screams were constant, so unsettling were they that it was like a thousand banshees roaring around you. Mikapi heard a shell heading towards our hole. He warned me and we both had to get out as soon as possible. There might have been gunfire, but it's better to risk it than to face certain doom in a hole. We made it to a nearby hole, just in time as the shell hit and dirt flew around us. Fate would not have it easy for us as we soon were noted that there was gas coming. We put on our gas masks and tried to leave. The gas collects in the holes, and when it is that dense, no amount of protection could save anyone. Mikapi was nicked in one leg and arm and he could not move. I did my best to drag his body while trying not to hurt him. I could not patch him up yet, there was too much danger. Luckily, I was able to get him to the medics. Unfortunately, they were to be amputated. A leg lost is nothing too bad, but an arm lost is something different. Sure, there were prosthetics, but we have limited resources. Even then, Mikapi had an infection, and the doctors could do nothing. He knew nothing of the sort, the doctors did not say anything to him. He was laying in a bed, and I was right beside him.

"Hey Ed, do you think that this would mean I can leave?" Mikapi said.

I looked at him, "I'm pretty sure. You could go back to your family and they would be glad to see you again, even if you're missing some limbs, you are still alive!" _Oh this poor fool! To not know that you will not live, how can I break this to you?_

"Haha, that would be nice. It would be amazing to be able to taste my mother's cooking once more..." Mikapi replied.

_Oh, how much longer can I keep on fooling him? This naive man, who thinks he can go back to his mother. You will not see her again...I shall not see you again._

"Ed...are you...really sure? You do not look confident, you look as though I will die."

I was taken aback by this, but my face showed nothing. "Nonsense. It is only because this is the first time I've seen one of my friends like this. I am only sad at how it turned out this way." _Oh how I lie! Who is the fool? Surely both of us are fools._

"...That's not it, is it? I'm...going to die, aren't I?" Mikapi said, his face full of hope that I say otherwise.

I could not hide it anymore. I could feel my eyes getting watery. "...No" my voice started to crack. "..No you won't live. The doctors told me they can't do anything to save you."

Mikapi's eyes started to water too, and tears flowed from his face. He looked up towards the ceiling, "So it is time for me to die." I could tell he was starting to break down. The thought of him dying was too much for him. "...No...I can't die..."

"Stop Mikapi, you mustn't be like this." My voice still cracking. "You are a strong and hardened soldier, you helped me to be this way!"

He started to cough. He whispered to me, "Ed...you mustn't...be like this...either." He was taking heavy breaths. "My life...is coming...to an end. But yours...isn't ending. You must...survive and...go to...your mother. You...must keep...your promise. Promise me...that you will...do so."

_These promises...I hate these promises. How do I know if I can keep these promises?_

"...I promise, Mikapi."

Just then, he started to cough wildly, something was going on! He looked as though he was having a panic attack! I called for a doctor.

"Doctor! Doctor! Someone get me a doctor! NOW!" I ran and ran, searching for a doctor. I found one, and took him to Mikapi. When I got back to Mikapi, his face was wet, but the attack had stopped.

"Mikapi!" I yelled. He raised his hand, and I grabbed it.

"Ed...you are not a boy anymore. I have...done all that I can...to help you. You are a man...you must make yourself...much stronger...more hardened...and maybe someday...a recruit might...even learn from you. Good...bye...my...friend..."

I increased my grip, "Goodbye...my friend." The tears flowed down my face, and already I felt his grip lessen. I let go, and his hand fell onto his chest.

"We'll need to move him away, stat." the doctor said. He moved Mikapi's bed away.

I stood there. _Good bye...my friend. Good bye...my brother._


	5. Relaxation

Chapter 5: Relaxation

Throughout the war, one will most likely say good byes many times. You can't say good byes to everyone, though. But enough about good byes, for today is a special day. Today is a day where we can rest. Now, death is really bad. It is nothing to be happy about. When our people die, we suffer a heavy loss. But however, if they die, then the supplies that would've been theirs (Cigarettes, food, etc.) would be ours. And who are we to complain when we have extras? They are gone, and it is sad. But we are still alive, and we shall make do with whatever extras we get. It is quite nice, rarely does a soldier have enough food to eat. Today, we can eat like kings! Though it's not necessarily a feast, it is more than what we usually eat. To us, this is like a feast, a grand time for our stomachs. Bread, sausages, bacon, and beer! Today is also a good day. The sun is shining, bright and warm. The wind is blowing easily, a cool breeze to compliment the warmth. The clouds slowly crawl by, and as we lay on our backs, it's a good time to see what new shapes they would form. It is a good time waster, and during the war, what else can one do to keep himself busy?

"Hey look, that one looks like a bee." Friesly said.

"So it does. That one looks like an octopus." O'Reilly said, pointing to a cloud.

I saw a particular cloud, and it reminded me of my mother. I remember when we used to do this back home. Look at that, my mother would say, it looks like a star. While I do miss my mother, and these thoughts would usually not help, they are...alright. In a way, I feel as though I am home again. Perhaps not with my mother, but I have my close friends here. Days like these, they are wonderful. I would do anything to be able to live like this. Good food that fills you up, cigarettes to smoke, no worries about getting attacked...

There was a cloud that forms into a hand, a palm facing towards me. It was a weird sight, but I do not think it so. I raised my own hand up, and faced it towards the cloud, as though I was touching another hand. It felt inviting, and I couldn't help but smile at what I was doing.

"Hey Westheld," O'Reilly started. "Got any stories to tell?"

"Haha," Westheld started to reply. "I got a good one for you guys. It's about the time a bear confronted me, and I only had my good ol Swiss Army knife and my wits to counter him. Ah, what a glorious time. It was a great rush of adrenaline."

Terres replied, "Well go on then! Seems very interesting, considering I would never think of you as a camping type."

Westheld laughed and started his story. I did not pay attention to it yet, I was still in my thoughts. Now that I think about it, was it a coincidence there was a cloud that reminded me of my mother and then a cloud shaped like a hand appeared afterwards? Was there a connection between the two? Was it a sign that my mother was looking after me? Or was it that it was a sign that I would live to see my mother? Who knows, I shook the thoughts away and listened to Westheld's story.


	6. Dungeon Fighters

Chapter 6: Dungeon Fighters

We've received word from Zeldine that there are new reinforcements. They call themselves, Dungeon Fighters. I do not get the name. Dungeon Fighters? What dungeons are there? We are on the battlefields! Nevertheless, Zeldine tells us that they are a valuable asset. She tells us that they have handled the Kartels right in the outskirts of Ghent. I suppose weird names or not, they have done us a great victory. We can't deny that this is a step forward towards winning.

What makes one a Dungeon Fighter? I thought about this after I heard from Zeldine. Surely they do not just fight in dungeons. Ghent is not a dungeon, so it must be something else. Whatever the case may be, it sounds like an interesting occupation. Of course, I doubt I would ever want to be like them. That's not to say that they aren't helpful. I have met them during one day in West Ghent.

It was a bad day for us. We were fighting the Kartels, and they had much difficulty trying to advance. But they were still able to advance, and we suffered many losses. We tried our best to keep them from going even further. Friesly was an expert sniper; five Kartels were killed in five seconds flat. Terres was at the machine guns, and I swear that he has a hidden devil inside him that only appears when he's behind one of those guns. O'Reilly was helping some new recruits out, and Westheld was next to me as we were gunning down our enemies.

There was a Kartel member who almost succeeded in killing me and Westheld. He was quite clever. In the midst of our battle, he was able to secure one of our soldier's uniforms. He sneaked into our trench and saw us. We saw him too, but he was already holding up his gun, aiming for us. Everything was slowed down. We both turned to face him with our own guns, but I could just see he was about to pull the trigger. I hoped we could've been faster than him, but then I saw flashes. Is it true that one's life flashes before his eyes when he's about to die? Were these flashes of my own life? I do not know, for the next thing I knew, the Kartel member was dead. I looked at Westheld, and he looked at me. We were confused, but then someone else walked up next to us. He was holding a revolver. The smoke coming out told us that he was the one who saved us.

"Thank you!" I exclaimed.

"No problem. You gotta be faster next time, alright?" he said.

"Who are you?" Westheld asked.

"I'm just a ranger," the ranger replied.

"Are you…are you what they call a Dungeon Fighter?" I asked him.

"Yes I am. And so are they," the ranger said while pointing to a group of three.

We looked to where he pointed. They were all very tall; I would say at least 6 feet, maybe 7 feet. One had a giant weapon strapped to his back; he was very muscular and appeared to be holding hand cannons as well. Another one had a little contraption flying next to him. It was round, but it seemed to help him, though I don't know how. The last one had a very weird device on his waist. It was like a cross, no…more like silvery-blue device shaped like an X. It looked like an ammo belt, but I was not sure. We looked back to the ranger, but he was already gone.

A recruit suddenly yelled, "Look over there!" and pointed to the ranger out in the field.

We were baffled at first. What is wrong with him, going out there like that alone is dangerous! He's not taking shelter in the holes; he's just running out right in the open! Is he mad? But we were awestruck afterwards. He was dodging the bullets, moving with such swiftness that I could only think that he was a superhuman. The other 3 Dungeon Fighters were already jumping into battle. Do miracles truly exist? The Dungeon Fighters were completely something else. The one with the flying contraption made robots at breakneck speed. I assume the little flying buddy he had was helping, perhaps holding pre-made components, or maybe it was the one making the machines at breakneck speed while the Dungeon Fighter told it what to make. Who knows? All I know was that there were robots jumping and running towards the Kartels, exploding instantly once it got close to them. A flying, armed robot, a ring with tiny planes coming out, even an air drop of those tiny little buggers, I have never seen such advanced machinery! The muscular Dungeon Fighter stayed in the back, but he had plenty of weapons to shoot the enemies down. Flamethrowers; a longer, mobile flamethrower; a giant laser that when charged, became even bigger and deadlier; a Gatling gun; where do all of these weapons come from? I have a theory that the handle he uses are all the same, but he snaps on a tiny device onto the handle that expands into the mentioned weapons. I feel as though that's the only plausible explanation for he once went closer to enemy lines, crouched down, and a giant cannon expanded, with which he stood up and charged. There was suction as poor, helpless Kartels were pulled closer to it until the blast went off, exploding after several meters passed. The one with the ammo belt, now that is a great mystery all on its own! His bullets possessed a power with which I have not seen. A bullet of...electricity it seemed. Another bullet endowed with ice. Another one that was enflamed all around. Was it...magic? Was that what it was? How does the man do it? I noticed he slides his fingers off of the ammo belt before snapping his fingers. Perhaps, the ammo belt contains those electric, ice, and fire magic. He slides his fingers off fast and then snaps, maybe a trail of magic follows his fingers, and when he snaps, it disperses into his gun, producing the elemental bullets. He also crouched down once, a radio next to him. Suddenly, groups of enemies were getting shot off. I thought it was the other Dungeon Fighters, but there was no one aiming for them. It was then that I realized that the man was radioing for support, most likely a group of snipers.

The battle was heavily in our favor. We were victorious at the end. Everyone shouted in great celebration, and I was still struck in awe at these Dungeon Fighters. Clearly I could never become like them. They are superheroes, that's what they are. I learned that there were other Dungeon Fighters that were completely different than they were. People wielding swords; harnessing the power of magic; using their own fists; using scythes, axes, and crosses. I feel like a kid, thinking about real superpowers and being just like them. If these people are on our side, then surely we shall win the war! These Dungeon Fighters can take care of it all!

But the most surprising thing I found was that the help that the Dungeon Fighter radioed for was just one person sniping at all those Kartels. Now that is something I could probably work for.


	7. Thoughts and Distractions

Chapter 7: Thoughts and Distractions

I've come to learn that we have grown to depend on Dungeon Fighters heavily. Many of our soldiers have stopped caring for the war. They believe that they are victorious already and have become lazy slobs. We have two days of rest, so they are safe now. But I worry about them when we'll have to go back to fight.

There are plenty of ways to spend time during rest days. Some joke about and play some games out of whatever they might find. I like to think about my life and any interesting things that might come to my head. One thing that I think about from time to time is my entire existence. I'm glad that I am able to be alive. I'm glad I have my friends and my family. But there is a question: What if I was born as someone else? Imagine, you not being who you are now. Perhaps maybe a completely different person. I might be a Dungeon Fighter. I could probably be a woman. Maybe I'd be an Aradian, the Dungeon Fighters told me that most are from a land called Arad. A baker, a blacksmith, a whole new person. Even a Kartel. How would life be as a Kartel?

Perhaps one of the best things one can do is to look at something from someone else's point of view. What do the Kartels think about us Ghent people? Why do they do such things? Are their actions justified? Are ours? Maybe both are? It can't answer everything, but we can always learn more if we think from others' point of view. Is it hard to do so sometimes? I believe so. Thinking like a Kartel, there's a lot of what-ifs for me. I doubt some of the other soldiers would think about something like this though. I doubt even my close friends would think about it either. But that's okay for me, I understand why they wouldn't. It's not their faults. But is it the Kartels' faults? No, I don't think so either. There's just no clear answer here, there are no clear answers for most of everyone's life.

Friesly draws during this time. I know he's a good artist, I have seen many of his creations. Sometimes I wish I can draw, but it's not for everyone. O'Reilly is the one that surprised me the most when I first saw it. The joker actually writes poetry! He wrote a piece called, "The War Changes a Man."

To arms and to battle!

We shall not be rattled!

That is what I heard,

when they said those spoken words.

I was only a young kid then,

but it was time to be like men.

To training, I was gone,

To strengthen my brawn.

To training, I went,

To be more intelligent.

I always wondered, I always thought,

Maybe I would be lucky, to never get shot.

And to the trenches, we all departed.

It was time to fight, for the battle had started.

In the trenches, explosions were sound.

Quickly! Bound to the ground!

These men have died,

And they're right by my side.

It is depressing, it is sad,

It is wrong, it is bad.

And it is this poem I write,

That which keeps me right.

These men that died in these holes.

These men that will never reach their goals.

These men probably have loved ones,

That cherish them as they are, sons.

Yet when the war ends, if it ever.

One must relay, and another one suffers forever.

Perhaps if I am still alive,

Perhaps if I can survive.

I'll go home, to my mother's embrace.

To see, to kiss her loving face.

But I shall never be the same.

A man of war, I became.

One should always understand,

That the war changes a man.

I find it to be a wonderful piece. He has another one called, "Circle."

To live is to die.

To die is to live.

Is war really bad,

as everyone would say?

Perhaps it is, perhaps it's not.

We are kids who just want to play.

I find it weird and sad,

But I'm also happy and mad.

What does this say to anyone?

Nothing, or everything, to my own love.

The spirits are brought out,

they fly to up to the skies.

Closely, you can see them

waving their hands and saying good byes.

But they'll back,

I know for a fact.

To live is to die.

To die is to live.

Westheld writes to his family and love. We all write to our families. But, I do not have a girl. Is this bad? When, _if_, I come out alive, will I be able to find love? I envy my friends, for they have their girlfriends. Me? We shall see, but if I don't survive, then I'll remember my friends, my mother, and O'Reilly's poems. _To live is to die. To die is to live._


	8. The Unknown

Chapter 8: The Unknown

If there is something to hate and love, it's the unknown. The unknown is special, it fascinates everyone. What will something do? What new things shall we see? What new things shall we learn? The idea of something unknown drives me to new lengths. But I also hate it. There are many things which we do not know, and that infuriates me. Are we going to live? Is my family okay? The biggest thing to worry right now is the princess. We've received news that she was kidnapped. This is where the unknown kicks in. What are they doing to her? Is she safe? Is she being harmed? Curse this! It is a two way street, and at the same time, they converge to be one street. The only thing we can do now is to keep protecting our city while devising a way to rescue our princess.

If you wanted to know how a person who stays in the city all the time can also be one of the greatest attackers/defenders in the battlefield, I would tell you to go meet up with Melvin. He's a genius, that kid. On the outside, he looks like a lazy slacker who is absolutely disgusted whenever someone approaches him. But inside, he's thinking of new contraptions and machines to defeat the Kartels. He's defending Ghent and helping us soldiers out here. He's not so bad once you get to know him. I guess the hardest part is actually making him like you enough so you can then get to know him. He's a complex individual, that guy. Though who isn't? Everyone is complex. Anyways, his machines were a great help at West Ghent. He made what he called a GSK-1000 and sent it to us. It stands at 10 feet tall with 6 legs on the side. An opening at the top for troops to get in. Meanwhile, there were two turrets inside the GSK-1000, the barrels poking out through holes in the front. At the top there was a grenade launcher, designed so it never shoots one close to the machine, but still be able to aim it far enough. A flamethrower was hidden underneath. Two were sent actually, and you can bet we were quite excited to use this in battle. When the gates at our base were opened and we came out in our new armored vehicles, the Kartels were thrown into a frenzy. The vehicle moved at a moderate pace, I wished it moved faster, but it was decent and the Kartels couldn't destroy it. There they were, just shooting with their assault rifles and throwing their grenades haphazardly. A few hit the GSK, but it was designed to withstand at least 10 grenades. You have to love Melvin's designs. Bullets flew to every Kartel. Some foolishly tried to get closer to us so we couldn't aim for them. Bullets made their upper body fly backwards while their lower half moved forward. I could've sworn I even saw one body snap into two, a clear hole for his intestines to drop out. It was a gruesome sight, yes, but you get used to it. At the end of the day, the Kartels had heavy casualties. I estimate we killed at least 500 Kartels, probably a lot more. The GSKs were brought back into Ghent and Melvin was able to fix them. Does Melvin fix every single machine that gets brought back to the city? No that cannot be. He most likely has some helpers, though I have never seen an engineer with him, only Dungeon Fighters or soldiers like us. He has plans to upgrade the GSKs, and I'm actually quite excited to see how he'll upgrade them. Advanced weaponry, more speed, even greater protection? Who knows! I also wonder what it's like for the people to transport those machines from the city to the bases around Ghent.

It seems that West Ghent has no problems now, for my squad was getting moved to another part of Ghent. There are still some Ghent soldiers that are overlooking West Ghent, with the GSKs that Melvin designed. They have not been upgraded yet, Melvin is still in the planning stage, but they are still amazing to have as protection. As for us, they have not decided where my squad will go. We spent the night speculating where we would be headed. What are the conditions in those sites? Is it bad or is it good? What will happen when we get there? What will happen in the field? Questions, questions, questions. And so the unknown appeared yet again. How I hate it.


	9. Christmas

If you want to know the song he's talking about at the end,

either 1) go to the Youtube Homepage and copy in "watch?v=tk-mTzVoA7k" (without quotes obviously) after the URL

or 2) copy "ナチュラルハイ「始まりのヒト」PV " into the search bar and click the first video to see/listen to it. I highly recommend you check it out anyways.

* * *

Chapter 9: Christmas

I can't believe I didn't see this before. We were approaching Christmas and I never even knew. Now it's Christmas Eve and you can bet we're going to try to celebrate a bit. Apparently we get moved tomorrow, but we won't go to battle yet. They're giving us today to walk about in Ghent and celebrate. This is a grand time for me to finally visit my mother. It's been so long. O'Reilly's excited to meet his girlfriend as well as Westheld with his. We all went shopping during the morning for some gifts. I bought a box of chocolates for my mother and sister. They rarely get to eat it, so it's a nice thing to give them. I suppose just me being alive is probably enough for them, but sometimes, enough won't do it for me. I'm coming home, for one day, and I'm going to make it last and be memorable. We took a small break and went to Tori's bar. A song was playing.

"So what can I get you guys?" Tori asked.

"Whatever fits the holiday," I answered.

"Hm, alright then. I have a feeling I'm gonna be making a lot of these for tonight." Tori said. He then got out the ingredients and glasses and started mixing them.

"So, O'Reilly," Friesly started. "what did you get for your girl?"

"Got her a teddy bear with my initials and hers in the heart of it. Also got a necklace as well." O'Reilly replied.

"And what about you, Westheld?" Terres asked.

"Got her a ring so far. I'm thinking about getting some roses later on." Westheld replied.

We teased them a bit about their girlfriends. Then they asked me and I explained it to them. Of course, then they started to tease me about getting a girl of my own. Tori was done mixing the drinks and handed them to us.

"Alright, Tom and Jerry's for all of you." He said.

We drank it and it was heavenly. At the very least, it was a lot better than the stuff we had to drink in the fields.

"So what about you guys?" Tori asked while looking at Friesly and Terres. "What do you have?"

Terres answered back, "We don't really have anything. We don't have our own girls, and we don't have a family either."

"Really now? I'm the exact same way." Tori said.

"Well that's a shocker! I thought someone like you would have a fine good lady by now!" O'Reilly said, and then broke into laughter.

"Haha, I suppose I'm just waiting for the right one, or maybe the right time. Who knows. But you know, don't feel bad about the question, Terres and Friesly. You got friends here now. In a sense, they're your family. I'd probably say I'm in the family too."

They all sat in silence, thinking up on this.

"So what happened to your parents, Tori? I mean, if it's not too personal." Friesly asked.

"Somewhat long story, but it probably won't take more than 15 minutes."

It seems that Tori had an interesting life as a child. I'm surprised he became a bartender after all that he experienced. Nonetheless, it was nearing noon, and we had to finish our shopping quickly.

The amount of love I see on the streets is amazing. There are couples everywhere, shopping and laughing and going to places. O'Reilly and Westheld left to meet their girlfriends after they bought their things. Before they left though, I took a picture of us all with my newly bought camera. It would be a nice memento. Friesly and Terres decided to go to the graveyards to see their family graves. I went to the graves to see my father's as well. We split up at the entrance and I reached my father's grave after a minute or so.

"Hello father. How is it going? Life is okay for me. Maybe you're proud of me for defending Ghent. I hope you're proud. I'm going to see my mother and sister later. We're lucky that they're giving us some time off to come back here. I'm glad I have some good friends here. You were a good dad, and I miss you just as much as I miss Mother. Here, I have a rose for you and your favorite drink. Drink up...it's all I can do for now."

I sat their for a while, looking to the grave and then to the skies and back. After a while, I stood up.

"I'll see you...but for now, it's time to go home for the first time in a long time."

I walked back to the entrance. Friesly and Terres weren't there. It's alright, they said they were going to see if they could find the girl of their dreams. I walked out, and I saw another couple. The man seemed different, like he was on the Kartel side. No, that cannot be. What am I thinking? Why should I think someone like him was a Kartel? But I still couldn't help but wonder. A Kartel man with a Ghent woman? Haha, if only something like that could actually exist. Or maybe it does already exist, perhaps not all Kartels are bad. Oh well, it is Christmas Eve, and I must go home quickly. Every minute counts for tonight.

My heart was beating faster with every step I took. In a minute, I would be at my house. I would be seeing my mother and sister again. How are they? What is it like now? The beating increased as I saw my house. As I neared the door, it felt as though my heart would explode. Finally, I knocked. The looks on their faces were filled with happiness and sadness all in the same. Actually, I was sure that they were more happy than sad, at least for that moment. They both hugged me, and I hugged them back. The warmth that was there was...unexplainable. My beating slowed back down to the normal rate. At this moment, all I felt like doing was cry. It's been so long...so, so long. I already felt my eyes watering, and they both kissed me on my cheeks. I kissed them back, and already I could not hold on any longer. We all cried. They both looked so much older. I could not believe it. I wiped my tears and gave them my gifts. I had the idea to take a picture of this. They happily agreed and we all washed our faces. I set the timer on the camera and quickly got into place. Another photo, a precious photo, taken. Afterwards, I told them of my days in the war, the things I did, the things I saw. It was a happy night.

"Oh, my baby. Thank goodness you're alright!" My mother said.

"So you'll be going back tomorrow?" My sister asked.

I answered, but I think they already knew the answer. They did not seem surprised. No, they had a look of a truthful sadness. They knew I wouldn't be here forever, but they were still happy. I was happy too. For that night, I did not care that I was going back to war the next day. I hung out with my friends, which Tori said was like my new family, and I also came back home to meet my old family. For me, I did not care what happened the days before or what would happen the days after. For that day and night, I was in a blissful dream-no, more like a reality. As I laid in my bed, I remembered the song that played in Tori's bar.


	10. MachineArm Warjack

Chapter 10: Machine-Arm Warjack

We were sent to North Ghent to help some Dungeon Fighters out. Or maybe they were helping us out. What could we do to help them? Well apparently, there was a machine called the AT-5T Walker that was left behind. Melvin told us that there were some barriers that could only be destroyed by the Walker, which I found odd since I was sure the Dungeon Fighters strength would be enough. Nonetheless, we were transported over to North Ghent and given one day to get ready. We met the Dungeon Fighters who would accompany us tomorrow. One was a Slayer who had the power to control ghosts. Another was a female Fighter, whose battle scars were visible on her legs. She was called a Brawler. There was a Priest seemed to be a Crusader, and another Gunner with a huge gun on his back, which I learned was a Launcher. We said our greetings. They were quite nice and I think they were really excited for the mission. I won't lie, we felt pretty excited too just to be able to experience some more Dungeon Fighters fighting with us. What wondrous new skills will we see?

During the night, my squad was asleep but I was still awake. The Slayer, who I learned was a Soul Reaper, made me curious about the afterlife. If he can summon ghosts, then what kind of ghosts are they? Are they just any ghosts or are they special ones, ones that are specially designed to help Soul Reapers? The latter seemed quite likely, but I'm still bothered by the ghosts. Does this mean that millions of unhappy spirits are here? I shook those thoughts away. Why think them? It's probably ghosts that only Soul Reapers can summon anyways. Still, I wonder how their past lives were, those ghosts. Why can they and only they be summoned by the Soul Reaper? What happened during their life that caused them to be? Dungeon Fighters make me question things more and more.

The next day, it was time to fight on the fields once more. We made our way to North Ghent Gate. Through the walkie-talkie I was holding, Melvin's voice could be heard.

"Squad and Dungeon Fighters, are you proceeding to North Ghent Gate? Over." Melvin buzzed.

"We are, over." I replied.

"Okay. The AT-5T Walker should be close to where you guys are. If you take out my specially designed map, it should be able to tell you where the Walker is since the Walker has a built-in chip. Once you reach it, tell me. Over." Melvin explained.

"Copy that. Over." I took out the map and there was a blinking light on it. It was in the northeast direction, so we quickly headed to that spot. On the way, we met some Kartel soldiers, but they were quickly taken care of. I will say, this was a grand time to see the Soul Reaper in action. He had two ghosts with him, one that made him invincible at certain intervals, and another that seemed to protect him. There were four ghosts that he could lay down: Kazan, Bremen, Saya, and Rhasa. Kazan raised everyone's strength while Bremen lowered the enemies defense. Saya was meant to freeze and Rhasa made a person twitch and convulse with poison and internal bleeding. I think Rhasa also blinds.

When we reached the Walker, I quickly took out my walkie-talkie and told Melvin, "Walker has been found, over."

"Excellent. One of you guys will have to get in the Walker to remove the barriers. There's only enough room for one person. Over." Melvin replied.

"By the way, how come the Walker is needed to remove the barriers? Over."

"It saves time. The barriers are made with strengthened steel mixed with some titanium in it. Now, Dungeon Fighters can break it, but they'll be spending valuable time and energy on it. With the Walker, it can easily break it with no sweat. Over."

I turned to the Dungeon Fighters and my squad and asked, "So then, who goes into the Walker?"

The Dungeon Fighters didn't really want to. One could've went but he figured that his own skills would be better. My squad either wanted to see them fight or help them out with their own arsenal of weapons, so it was all up to me. I climbed into it and told Melvin.

He said, "Alright. Now that you're in the Walker, it's time to go over the controls on it. Moving it is quite simple for the most part. There is a control stick that can go in any direction. There's two pedals that you can step on. The one on the right is to just move forward at a faster rate. The Walker is quite slow when just moving around, so you'll need to utilize that pedal. Did you get all of that? Over."

"Yes I did. Over." I replied.

"Good. Now I'm going to go over the attacks. You have some buttons in front of you. The first one is your standard attack, shooting a few long bullets. The next button is a more advanced version of the attack. You might notice that the barrel is slightly larger than your bullets. If you press this button, you'll also send out some missiles along with your regular bullets. Now you might be wondering about that other pedal I said earlier. That's another of your attacks. Whereas the right one is designed to move faster, the left is designed to rush and charge into enemies. The force of it should be enough to at least give the Kartels some broken bones, if not killing them outright. Anyways, the third button is your flamethrower attack. There's another barrel under the gun barrel that's for shooting out flames. I'm sure you already know about flamethrowers. Second to last button is my second favorite. It sends out three big missiles out from the back of the Walker to three fixed points in front of you. The missiles do some heavy damage. Now the last one is a deadly one. It'll send a signal to an aircraft that will drop down a lot of missiles. You'll be immobile while signaling the aircraft, so find a safe spot first. Now, this one needs quite a bit of energy to send the signal. You should be able to find some fuel for this in the field. Remember to get everyone else into a safe position as well for any of the missile attacks. Now did you get all of that? Over."

"I got it all. Over."

"Good. I don't have to explain it again. I'm going to try to and see if I can find some information on this Warjack guy. I'll try to find it fast so you guys don't have to find out about it at the wrong time. Over."

"Roger that. Oh yeah, what if it gets destroyed? Over."

"Ah, that you don't have to worry about. See, when the Walker gets activated, it leaves behind a small device. When the Walker is destroyed, you'll have to bring the pieces back to the device, but then it'll automatically repair itself. However, don't go rushing in and being reckless. It won't do repair itself forever. Not to mention that you'd be making me pretty mad since they're _my_ machines. Over."

After that, some Kartel Agents appeared. I decided this would be a good time to test out the Walker's skills. As sad as it is for me to kill women, I had to. Besides, if it wasn't by me, it would've been by my squad or the Dungeon Fighters. But I must say, this Walker sure is amazing. Over the next few areas, I tried out all of the buttons, and I was getting used to moving it as well.

We came across this person who called himself Hotwire. He was...something else. I think he was some kind of android. Is that what Gizel has been making? The Dungeon Fighters quickly sprang to action though, so I ordered my squad on what to do.

"O'Reilly! Westheld! You guys take care of the Kartel soldiers! Friesly, take out those rocket launchers! Terres, back up the Launcher and also snipe out any Kartels!"

I was right in that Hotwire was something else. He was taking some damage from the Dungeon Fighters, but he was also still very much alive. He threw some flash grenades around and the Dungeon Fighters had to evade it. However, I was unaffected and quickly launched some missiles for him since the Dungeon Fighters were away. The missiles seemed to be very effective, he was destroyed instantly. There were some circuits and components remaining of Hotwire, but they were quickly taken care of. We can't take any chances here. We found some fuel nearby and the Soul Reaper tossed it to me. I let it run into a hole nearby and we went further ahead. We found another special soldier that went by the name of Captain Jurren. I swear, his acrobatic skills rivals that of circus performers. He was jumping all over the launcher's attacks, he was too fast for our guns to hit, honestly it was just sad. Figuring that enough was enough after five minutes, I told everyone to clear out and decided to send in the aircraft missiles. Even Jurren can't dodge all of those missiles. It was a pretty cruel sight. Jurren tried his best, but his body parts splattered everywhere. An arm here, a leg there, his head nowhere to be found though. His torso was against a wall, intestines spilling out. Honestly, I feel sorry for him. Am I a monster for using this? Maybe I am, but what does it matter now? The blood that painted the ground was a common sight. It was overkill, but a necessary kill. It was a good thing that Melvin called before I started to think of it too much.

"Come in, Squad and Dungeon Fighters. Do you read me? Over." Melvin asked.

"Read you loud and clear, over." I replied.

"Great. So I found out that the Kartels call him Machine-Arm Warjack, since he replaced his arms with mechanical ones. Gizel sure is one crazy scientist. Though he does have the look for it. But I digress, watch out for Warjack. Due to his mechanical arms, he's got some attacks that you haven't seen yet on a Kartel. From the records I've seen of him, he can shoot out lasers out of his hands, charge up and shoot a ball of electrical energy, and grab a person so he can send out huge waves of electricity. And due to his arms being mechanical, watch out for his extended range. I'd advise on either being quick on your feet at close range or just stay far away. If his arms are mechanical, chances are that he also has increased armor. It'll probably take you a bit to defeat him, I know that one aircraft missile barrage won't be enough to kill him. Over."

And with that, we had to devise a plan. My squad would have to snipe and throw grenades at Warjack, that was all they could do. The Launcher would also stay back. The Soul Reaper and the Brawler would fight up close. The Crusader would try to keep everyone alive, as always.

We finally met up with Warjack. He was a burly man. You could tell he at least worked out. I figured that if he had his regular arms, they would be full of muscles and veins. Now, his mechanical arms moved with clangs, the wires surrounding it looking like mechanical veins.

"Haha! So you think you can defeat me? I replaced my arms for the Kartels! I'll crush you and zap you like a little insect!" He yelled.

We quickly got into position and started attacking him. Warjack was a pain. Many of our hits seemed to not even faze him. The Dungeon Fighters gave him hell though. That isn't to say that we didn't have trouble. Electricity flew everywhere. It was like an annoying mosquito, one that you just kept bothering you over and over. Luckily, we found some more fuel for the Walker. The Brawler quickly got it and threw it to me.

I yelled out, "Freeze him and get out of the way!"

He was frozen and I pressed the button. Every second that passed by felt like Warjack would thaw out. The aircraft came, though, and I calmed myself down. Surely this would be the final blow. Melvin said that one couldn't bring him down, but the Dungeon Fighter already damaged him enough. It was like a glorious explosion of fireworks. They were all the same, but to me, there were colors. Surely Warjack was gone now. Terres walked up to me and gave a thumbs up. I returned it, and looked at the rising smoke. My heartbeat quickly rose again.

"Terres! Get your sniper rifle ready and hide!" I told him.

He hid, holding his rifle and took aim afterwards. I pressed the button for the three missiles. They landed, but Warjack was still standing.

"That was a good move...I really felt it for that one! But I'm still alive, and you're going down!" He said while smiling, some blood dripping from his face.

"Now Terres!" I yelled, and Warjack was shot in the chest. Piercing through his heart, the bullet went in and then out, covered in blood. Warjack fell down. I got off the Walker and went up to him.

"..Hehe. You're pretty good...it's a shame...that I'm going to die here. Sacrificing my arms...wasn't enough for the Kartels." Those were his final words.

Cheers and compliments were given afterwards. We were victorious! That is a big step for us. Ghent is getting closer to being free from the Kartels! I was surprised that we could actually do something. My squad, I mean. We were regular Ghent soldiers, not Dungeon Fighters, and we...we did something. We killed Warjack, with some help of Dungeon Fighters. But however, we were also able to defend ourselves against the Kartels. The Kartels probably think that the people of Ghent were depending on Dungeon Fighters now. I don't think that's the case for my squad. Today showed me that we aren't as bad as they would think. Maybe next time, we won't even need Dungeon Fighters.


	11. South Ghent Gate

Chapter 11: South Ghent Gate

After that victory in North Ghent Gate, we felt like we were at the top of the world. However, we were told that we had to meet up with Zeldine sometime in the afternoon. But before we did that, we had to celebrate. So my squad and I went to Oasis for some R&R time. Jokes and stories were passed all around. So we were acting like children, who cared? If anything, we were still kids. We had just beaten Warjack! If we continue like this, we can defeat the Kartels with only our wits and guns. This little victory ignited the flames of our spirit. We had this spirit burning bright before the war. It was broken down and out during the war. But now, now we feel like we can take the world by storm. I'd like to see our spirits crushed now!

After that, we met up with Zeldine.

"So, why did you call us up, Zeldine?" I asked.

"Ah, Squad 7. I heard of your recent victory against Machine-Arm Warjack. You also brought back the AT-5T Walker to us. It's very valuable to us. Anyways, your squad seems to be quite skilled for battle, and we could use a squad like yours for our next mission. Do you accept?" She explained.

"We accept." I said readily. _Of course we accept. It's another chance to get ourselves even better against the Kartels._

"Great! You'll be transported to South Ghent Gate with these Dungeon Fighters as well." There was a Spitfire, an Exorcist, an Asura, and a Rogue. "We received news that Gizel made a secret weapon, designed to create mass destruction. It's called the GT-9600, a large tank with a myriad of weapons and attacks. Clearly, we can't let this machine advance any farther than South Ghent Gate. The Dungeon Fighters and your squad will go there and destroy the tank, along with any Kartels. Melvin is already trying to look into the records to see what the GT-9600 can do."

"Alright then. I doubt we'll have problems, though." I replied.

"I hope so, too. But we have Dungeon Fighters now, so I suppose you're right." She said. She went away, probably to see if Melvin has gotten anything so far.

"So, you guys seem to be pretty good out in the battlefield." the Spitfire said. "You could probably replace Zeldine, since she says she's an incompetent commander." He pointed at me.

"No, I don't think I could. I'd much rather stay here with my squad, to be honest." I replied.

"Well I suppose. After a while, you make friends and stick with them, just like us." He said.

We shook hands and left, we had to get ready for the next day.

We were at the gates when Melvin's voice came through.

"Where are you guys at right now? Over."

"We're in front of the gate, right before heading into the fields. Over."

"Okay good. Prime time to tell you about the GT-9600. It's a tank so obviously it won't go down very easily. Especially since it's Gizel's secret weapon. It's very defensive, but magic attacks seems to work fine. However, it has a defense mode that increases its defense to extremely high amounts. Even magic attacks won't be as effective. It also moves pretty fast, having the same ability to ram into things as my Walker. Though the GT-9600 can travel even farther with its ramming attack. It's got three turrets equipped at the top, so watch out when fighting up close. There's another one where he can shoot missiles up to the sky and home in on a person. They can also just fall randomly. It can also just aim the missiles at a person, shooting directly straight to anyone. The good thing is that pretty much all of his attacks can be seen a mile away. It'll stop moving for a bit before ramming. It'll stop and make some noises for the missiles and turrets. All I can say is, if it suddenly stops in the midst of battle, move out of the way. You'll have to sprint hard, they move pretty fast and can go far. Over."

With this new information in mind, we opened the gates and headed out. We head a map that showed branching paths.

"Okay, no doubt that there are Kartels all over. We'll have to split up to defeat them all. I'm sure the destruction would be enough to make them retreat, but I'm not going to take any chances." I said.

"Right. So we'll head off to the right, and you guys will go to the left." The Spitfire replied.

"Sounds like a plan. Let's go." We broke off to opposite directions.

The Kartels were easy enough to kill. Regular soldiers and fire controllers. Some were cyborgs, but with what we faced already, they were easy stuff. Fast and efficient, that's what we were. We were nearing the location of the GT-9600 when we met a certain Kartel squad. They were older than us and seemed to be extremely hardened soldiers. The looks on their faces said they fought in the war as long as we have, if not even longer. Their squad leader definitely fought for a very long time. He looked to be about 40 years old, and his eyes showed that he knew one thing and one thing only, fighting. I had a feeling he thought we were spineless, Dungeon-Fighter dependent, cowards. Whether this was true or not, I was not going to show that we were cowards. We quickly attacked. They ducked and retaliated. Grenades were thrown, bullets were shot, and yet there was not a single hit. That is until their captain shot me in the arm. I shot a bullet before it hit, though, and the bullet capped his knee. _As long as the bullet didn't hit an artery, I should be fine,_ I thought. Another one got me in the leg. After this, it seemed that everyone was getting hit now. Terres in the leg and belly. Westheld in the arms. O'Reilly in the shoulders. Friesly in the arm, leg, and shoulders as well. We proved to be a match though as they were suffering hits as well. However, they retreated after a while. I assume it was because the Dungeon Fighters were already taking care of the GT-9600. We knew we couldn't miss this chance to see the GT-9600. And who knows, we could even help damage it.

It felt terribly long just to get it into sight. We patched up our injuries, but we had to take it slow. It was probably only 5 minutes, but it felt like hours. We were still able to see the GT-9600. Unfortunately, it seemed that, while the Dungeon Fighters gave it hell, they were also taking a beating themselves. I had a feeling that the tank was using its defense mode.

"Terres and Friesly, think you guys can shoot your sniper rifles?" I asked.

"Sure can. It'll take more than a bullet to the shoulder to stop me." Friesly said.

"I'll just lay low because of my injuries." Terres said.

"Alright. Westheld and O'Reilly, we'll be shooting with our assault rifles."

They agreed to the plan. We split up just a bit in case the missiles decided to launch.

"But first," I said. "take out your grenades." We took them out. "Dungeon Fighters! Move out of the way!" I yelled. They heard us and quickly did so. "NOW!" I yelled, and we threw our grenades to the GT-9600. Seven grenades flew and exploded on it. Smoke could be seen flying out of the tank. The Dungeon Fighters took this time to do some more damage. The tank, however, started to clang and internal computer sounds could be heard. The turrets started to move, and this was the prime time for us to shoot.

"Shoot the turrets!" I ordered. The bullets cut the turrets clean off. The Dungeon Fighters continued to attack. The next thing though, I did not count for. The tank was sending out missiles and they were going to head for us. No, they were heading for Terres. We quickly went over to him and tried to help him leave.

"No! Let me go!" He resisted.

"Why? We just have to get you out of the way!" I yelled.

"Missiles launching in 2." the tank said.

"That's the point! You can't if you're carrying me! Look, Melvin said that you would have to sprint full force to even avoid it. Do you honestly think all of you can do that while carrying me, along with your own injuries?" He replied.

We all thought about it. "...We can still try! Come on Terres, you're our friend. We can't leave you here!" I exclaimed.

"You know what, Ed. You're a good captain. I appreciate the thought, but there's no time now. If you try to rescue me, all of you will be dead. Just leave me here."

"Missiles launching in 1."

"...Are you sure?" I asked.

"YES! You guys have to run NOW!" he replied.

My squad left, but I stayed behind.

"Ed, take this." He said while handing me a small notebook. "It has all of my writings, and my lucky pendant from my parents as well. I got it when I was very young, and I kept it ever since. I want you to hold onto them. Maybe keep them safe until you can put them on my grave. Or maybe keep it from getting destroyed at least."

"Missiles launching now."

I took it, and he took aim with his rifle.

"Give me my blessings, Mother and Father. Give me the strength and accuracy. Give me the power to save my friends. Give me your love, so that I can say I lived a good life. Ed, thanks. For all the good things we experienced in this war."

"...And you too, Terres. Our blessings goes out to you." I ran to safety.

I saw everything in slow motion. Five seconds until he was gone. Four seconds, and he was still aiming. Three seconds, and I saw his finger about to pull the trigger. Two seconds, and I heard him yell "For the people of Ghent! AND MY FRIENDS!" One second, the bullet was shot.

The bullet pierced through the GT-9600. I think it hit the motherboard in it since it started to malfunction. Electrical currents and tiny explosions could be seen on the outside. The missiles all hit Terres. There was blood where he was laying. The rifle was burned, almost completely gone. Terres was gone. Not a trace of a body part could be found. No finger, no toe, nothing. We went over to the blood mess. We covered the blood with the dirt around it, making a small grave. Poor Terres, one of my dearest friends. Why did it have to be like this? Damn that Gizel for making this tank! Damn that Kartel Squad we fought earlier! Damn this entire mission! I took my helmet and threw it against the wall. I fell to my knees next to the little grave. I laid his rifle next to it. I kept the journal and the pendant. I'll wait until a proper burial happens in Ghent. Maybe they won't do burials, maybe it'll be a plaque. Whatever the case, that's when I'll put the journal and pendant.

I wrote in the dirt:

Here lies John Terres, one of the bravest soldiers of Ghent. He destroyed the GT-9600 before he died. This was a man. This was a friend, an ally, a brother. Rest in peace.

John Terres.

1988-2012.


	12. Operation: Midnight Assault

Chapter 12: Operation: Midnight Assault

After the whole incident, we felt terrible. We were getting promoted though, but I still felt terribly bad.

"You've proved to us that you are no longer Privates. We have been foolish to keep you at this rank for so long." Zeldine said. "For displaying courage, bravery, and strength, your squad shall be promoted to the rank of Corporal. Except for you, Mr. Edward Sarge. Your valor and leadership skills will have you promoted to the rank of Sergeant. It's funny though, Edward Sarge the Sergeant. It's like you were born for this. Anyways, congratulations, Squad 7. The people of Ghent are proud of you."

It might have been a promotion. I might have been raised up two ranks. But honestly, how can I feel even a little bit of happiness when Terres died. Who cares about rank? What does it matter...

"Edward, I know you're sad." Zeldine said. "I understand you, all of you, will need some time. We have an operation to do three days from now. I'm sure that'll be enough time. I know it's tough to lose a close friend in battle, but you can't dwell on it for too long. Remember, Operation: Midnight Assault will start in three days. Get your squad and yourself ready. You were a leader before, you have to continue to be a leader now."

After that, we just did whatever we could to calm ourselves. Pictures were drawn, poems were written, music was played. The day was a mixture of happiness and sadness. Although, there was another victory it seemed. Dungeon Fighters were able to defeat the Kartels at another battlefield. Two cannons were destroyed, one with thunder and another with lightning. The Kartels somehow took control of Melvin's GT-Proto since it attacked the Dungeon Fighters. Zeldine was hoping that the GT would've been a great addition to our weaponry. The Dungeon Fighters were still able to destroy it, and then they went on to defeat the field commander, Babylon. Another step closer.

The day before the operation, we were feeling better. We took this time to train ourselves a bit. We're down one man after all. We'll need to get better to make up for the loss of Terres. We practiced our aiming and CQC skills. We went on until some time in the afternoon. Can't work too hard, otherwise we would be too sore, and therefore doomed, for the operation. We spent some time in Oasis, drinking and sharing good memories. I figured Tori knew what happened when he saw that Terres wasn't with us. He didn't say anything about it, probably because he knew we had an important mission the next day and didn't want to bring us back to the mourning phase. I was feeling a lot better though, I doubt I would mourn even more. Zeldine was right, I have to continue to be a leader. We lost a man, a good friend, but his death was not in vain. We'll continue to win fights for the people of Ghent, for the Princess, and for Terres.

Operation day. It was almost midnight. The Kartels hired some mercenaries called the Silver Spoon Circus. A circus? Are they running out of options? Maybe the circus is quite deadly, why else would they hire clowns? We saw some watchtowers. They had to go. Friesly and I aimed with our sniper rifles and out they went. Once again, the Dungeon Fighters and my squad split up. Along the way, we fought some acrobats and knife throwers. I'll tell you, the short, knife-wielding clowns are scarier, but they still died. Moving along, we saw some tents and heard snoring inside. Near the tents, there were small clowns holding lanterns and whistles. Putting two and two together, we quickly hid from view.

"Alright, we'll just shoot them all at the same time. Get your muzzles and attach them now. The gunfire will still be loud, but it won't be as loud as before. I have a feeling their whistles are even louder anyways." I whispered.

"Gotcha." Friesly said.

We took out our pistols and aimed.

"Ready. Aim. Fire." I said.

And down they went, like a choreographed dance. Bullets through their heads and off we went. Now I find things are getting to be both silly and more dangerous at the same time. Clowns on stilts? I know there are blades on the ends and they juggle spiked objects, but still. Silver Spoon Circus sure isn't boring, I can say that much. The bigger danger, though, was the clown behind those stilts. He was a fat one, holding onto a torch. We quickly took care of the stilt clowns, but the torch-wielding clown was not going to go down so easily. He leapt extremely high, rolling into a ball and headed straight for us. The torch was still burning, which basically meant a fat fireball was coming after us. For someone of his weight, he was extremely fast. With the torch, he also spat out fire. We all split up and threw our grenades at him. Seeing as how he wasn't invincible, we then took out our assault rifles, submachine guns, and pistols to shoot him. Another clown down.

It's surprising to see how there could be so many clowns sleeping during something like this. First in the tents, and now in sleeping bags out in the open.

"Just stay quiet." I said.

My squad flashed me an OK sign. After a while, we finally met up with the Dungeon Fighters. Going through the area even further, we met up with a lot of Kartels and clown mercenaries. There were also more Ghent soldiers and Dungeon Fighters though. I think they came from different directions. Nonetheless, we were all here now, and so were the Kartels and their mercenaries. Friesly and I took our sniper rifles out. Westheld and O'Reilly got their assault rifles and submachine guns. Throughout the night, there were deaths and casualties all around. I estimated at least 200 Kartels dead. I noticed that the Kartel squad we fought before was there. They had a big part in killing the Dungeon Fighters. To be honest, I wasn't surprised that the Dungeon Fighters were dying. They aren't invincible. They're just like us, humans. Sure it was unsettling to see them die, but I was already past the point of seeing these people like Gods. Maybe other Ghent people were shocked, but my squad was different.

A shocking event happened. One of the soldiers from the Kartel side suddenly went mad. I took a closer look with my sniper. He was definitely one of the soldiers we fought in South Ghent Gate. His name was Will. I was wondering why he was shooting his own soldiers. What could've went wrong with him? I suddenly thought back to Christmas Eve. He looked a lot like that guy going out with the Ghent woman. Could it be...could it be that he killed her? Was that it? He killed her during a battle? I guess a Kartel man with a Ghent woman really is impossible. He didn't seem bad though. He didn't have the look of a bloodthirsty Kartel. _No, stop thinking like this. You're on the battlefield now. You're a leader. _I looked back at him. He was also killing some Dungeon Fighters and Ghent soldiers. This Will is crazy now! He's out for everyone's blood. If he's the same guy I saw during Christmas Eve, then there's nothing of that happiness left in him. Clearly this man was on a bloodthirsty rampage, I can't let any of my own friends die anymore. But it seems fate would not let me have that. No, fate was a cruel entity. Friesly was fatally wounded by Will, a bullet through his heart.

"Gah. Dammit!" Friesly exclaimed, and then heaved heavily. "Guess I'm...done with my life, Ed." He said. He coughed up blood. The bullet pierced his lungs as well.

"No..no. You're not dead..." I said. But I knew that it was futile to deny it.

"Come on...Ed. You know...it yourself. My time's...done." He took out a drawing. "Take this. It's of...my parents...and me. Keep it...safe."

I crouched down and took it. I looked at the picture. It was him as he was now, all grown up, with his parents by his side. They look so happy together. I looked back to Friesly.

"It's been great...Sarge. It's...been...great." He gave a thumbs up and a smile. He was gone.

_Dammit! Dammit! DAMMIT!_ I put the drawing in my pocket. I took my sniper rifle.

"DAMN YOU, WILL!" I yelled. I took aim with my sniper. Will was out of bullets. He had a knife out and was charging at a Kartel soldier. This was my chance now. At least one of them is going to die. If I'm lucky, both. Before I could pull the trigger, Will was dead. I was confused. I looked out of my scope. The leader of his squad was holding a pistol, aimed at Will's direction. What was his name? Charles Miller? That's what I thought I saw. I couldn't bring myself to shoot anymore. He shot his own friend. His friend killed my friend. We both suffered greatly today. The Kartels retreated, we were swarming them. The Silver Spoon Circus leaders, Silky and Felty Martel, were dead. Another victorious battle, but at what costs? Both sides have suffered large casualties, and two leaders lost a friend. Friesly will be buried, he will be honored.

That's two friends gone now. Am I going to lose Westheld and O'Reilly too? We were so close, and now they're gone, far away to a distant land. What's going to happen to the rest of us?


	13. Preparations

Chapter 13: Preparations

I never noticed it, but Friesly also drew us on his drawing. On the front, it was him and his parents. On the back, it was our squad. We really were family. We were all brothers. Two down...two down. Honestly, I can't help but feel...that Westheld and O'Reilly really will be gone. After that operation, we were given some days to rest. One of the nights, I had a nightmare. I saw O'Reilly being killed inside a room. There were stacks of boxes everywhere. Meats and rifles scattered all over the room. Ammo supplies, medical supplies, what was this place?

We spent some more time with training ourselves. Aiming practices, handling different weapons, CQC, we did it all. In three days, we were sore beyond relief. Nonstop training, day and night. 12 hours, with only breaks for eating and relieving ourselves and sleeping. That was it. We'll relax when it's time to relax. It's only three of us now. We have to get stronger.

It was almost time for our new mission briefing. Before that though, we went out to Oasis once again. Tori saw the three of us. Once again, he knew what happened to us. We didn't talk much at first. We only drank and drank, drowning out our sorrows. It's bad to drink it out, I know, but it's what I'll do right now. We shared our hopes and dreams after a while. It wasn't all that great though. Terres and Friesly weren't even there for their dreams. I suppose we should be glad that we're still alive and able to fight it out for Terres and Friesly. But I don't know. I just don't know anymore.

Afterwards, we went to Zeldine for the next operation.

"Hello Squad 7. You'll be joining us on our raid of the Kartel Supply Camp."

_Kartel Supply Camp. Kartel Supply Camp._ Those words echoed inside my mind. It made me look back to the nightmare. Food, ammo, guns, medkits...it all made sense and I feared it. Now I fear it even more, and I can't help but think of O'Reilly's death. _No, no, no! Stop thinking such grave details. O'Reilly's well and alive. What are you thinking!_ It was only a dream, a nightmare. It's not real, it won't be real. How silly it was for me to think that way.

Zeldine continued, "The Kartels foolishly packed all of their supplies in one location. We'll be taking advantage of this by either taking them or destroying them so that the Kartels won't be able to get any supplies. After that, it won't be long before we can rescue the princess and win this."

We all agreed to it. Zeldine already knew of Friesly's death. But that's okay. We were already past it. We practiced day in and day out. That was proof enough. We walked to our base, vehicles approaching it for the next day, the day of the operation. That night, there were no nightmares. Only sleep, and maybe a dream.


	14. Operation: Raid

Chapter 14: Operation: Raid

Kartel Supply Camp. It was time to raid. Supplies will be destroyed or taken. They will not have food, water, ammo, or medkits. No, they will die. There will also be many Kartels there. They shall die in battle.

The vehicles brought what was left of my squad and many other Ghent Army people as well. Dungeon Fighters were in other vehicles heading to the same location. Of course, this would be a big battle. I doubt the Kartels are stupid. They have most of their supplies there, they have a bunch of soldiers there, surely they know that we would strike. It would be nice if we could take them by surprise, but life doesn't give you breaks. For now, we can only hope to storm them all, outnumbering them and destroying them.

Once we got off, we checked our weapons to make sure they were all okay. Knife was set and sharp. Grenades were there. Submachine gun and sniper rifle were fine. Everything was ready.

"Charge!" I yelled and we all stormed forward.

There were some new interesting opponents. We fought some fast guard dogs, but we found out that there were even stronger dogs. I had a feeling it was Gizel's doing. They were faster, they were stronger, I think they caused some troops to fall asleep. It was a terrible fate for those who did fall asleep. They were chewed on like food. Their skins flew off. Body parts, organs, also eaten or thrown away. Bloody bones laid where their bodies used to be. Toxins or something, that was what I was assuming. They didn't last long though, with the amount of bullets that were shot and the Dungeon Fighters that were there. We headed into the tents, and to be honest, it once again brought me back to the nightmares. It looked exactly like it was in my dream. But I couldn't focus on those thoughts right now.

There were clowns even here. They must be scraping the bottom of the barrel. Some fat clowns were there, but nothing like the fire-breathing one we fought before. And then we met one of the craziest ones I've ever seen. He must have been a psycho or something. He spun around and around the rooms like a twister, all the while throwing bombs out at us. I don't know whether to be impressed by this or scared. Casualties were running quite high though. Right now, I expected it to be at least 250 dead, Ghent Army people and Dungeon Fighters. I noticed that the same squad we fought before was there again, Charles Miller and his two soldiers. They were putting up a good fight. They had a look of determination. They were going down fighting, whether anyone liked it or not. After a while, they retreated. We tried to catch up to them, and I had my sights on one of Charles's friends. He was amazing with his sniper rifle. I saw him pluck heads earlier. I tried to snipe him, I missed. He tried to counter-snipe, he also missed. We had a little bit of a mini-duel with our snipers. But as they were retreating back, I was able to scope in on his head. Pulling the trigger, he was dead. The bullet zoomed through the air and pierced his skull. Some blood came out of the other end. _That's revenge, Charles._

Continuing to chase the Kartels, we fought another fat clown that had a chef's hat. He was just as ugly as the rest of them. He threw knives and the like. Even tried to flatten us with his weight. He was gunned down fast. We'd let the dogs take care of him.

Running and running, clowns and soldiers got shot down and were forgotten. However, I estimated our casualties to be at least 550 by this point. When we got to a room farther ahead, there was only one soldier there. I recognized him as another one of Charle's friends. He was the only squad member besides Charles that was alive. Clearly he's going down fighting. The look in his eyes had a burning desire, the desire to kill as many of us as possible. If he was determined before, then the determination he has now courses all over his body and through his veins. I was in the very far back of the group, but I heard him and someone else talked. I could see just a little bit of the man.

"Surrender now!" a lieutenant said.

"Well, it looks like it's down to just you guys and me, surely I won't win due to fate favoring good guys, but I'm going to spit at Lady Luck and lick as many of you people as I can." the man said after tossing his cigar.

He then shot all the lights in the room. Everything was dark. There was a hole on the ceiling, however, and moonlight pierced the darkness. It shone on the man, like a spotlight of sorts.

"Hah, do you really think the Lunar gods are blessing you today, you pathetic wretch?" The lieutenant asked.

"I may die here, but I'm not falling to you guys that easily. Now then, can you Ghent Army men and women along with these Dungeon Fighters best this mere mortal?" He asked while casually taking a grenade, uncorking it, and kicking it towards the crowd.

He really was serious about this. But surely he will go down soon. He's heavily outnumbered! Even if he tries his best, I doubt we would lose more than 10 people. But you know, determination can do miraculous things. After the grenade exploded, gunfire could be heard. I saw the flashes and I knew people died already. Screams could be heard.

"Don't just stand there! Shoot him down!" Another lieutenant shouted.

Men and women started firing at him. I looked through my scope to see if I could get him. Bill was his name. He was extremely fast though, I couldn't aim at him for fear of shooting others. Some bullets got to him in his knee and arm, but this didn't slow him down at all. Dungeon Fighters did not fare any better against him. I saw two Grapplers try to hold him down, but Bill was able to shoot them through the eyes before evading even more bullets. I couldn't help but think of it as revenge since he was wearing an eye patch. He must have been trying to inflict the same damage that someone else inflicted on him. He was unstoppable. Everything that was being thrown at him was easily dodged or he shrugged it off. Some bullets nicked him in the shoulders, others in the arms and legs, but he just kept on going. He reminded me of something I read in a book once. It was on the Guerillas of Rangelus. Those were the toughest Kartels to ever live. The soldiers there were extremely skilled. Even Dungeon Fighters had an extremely hard time fighting those. This Bill reminded of those Guerillas. His skill definitely matches them.

"Come on, is that the best you got?" He mocked while killing some more.

At this point, the Army was throwing everything. Rockets, grenades, incendiary grenades, everything. Even the Dungeon Fighters were bombing him. Elementalist attacks, lava spots, acid rain, Gatling guns, flamethrowers, but all to no avail. Sure he was getting damaged, but he was still alive and able to kill even more. He killed at least 100 by now, raising our casualties to more than 650.

O'Reilly tapped me on the shoulder. "Alright Ed, I'm going in. I have enough of this nonsense."

"What? You can't be serious! Look, he looks like he's about to go down. Give it a few more and he'll surely be dead." I said.

"That's the thing. We don't have 'a few more.' If he continues like this, we'll be down a lot more people than we could ever have lost. There's also no time. Every second we waste on this guy means another second that the Kartels can use to escape."

"But..but he's a monster! If you go, then you'll be killed!"

"Then I'll die trying!"

"No no no. O'Reilly, you can't do this. I had a nightmare some days ago that you died in here. You can't leave us now. We already lost Terres and Friesly. We don't need to lose you too."

O'Reilly looked at Bill and then at me. "Ed, I appreciate the thought. But you know that life's not fair for anyone. I've decided that I'm gonna take care of that guy. Or if not take care of, at least help you guys take him down. My girl already knows that there's a big chance I wouldn't come back. In fact, that Christmas we spent, I tried to make it the best. I had a feeling that I wouldn't come back, so we tried to make it the best Christmas possible. And you know, it was. We had fun, our squad that is, on that day. And then I spent the rest of the day with my girl. It was a good day."

"...You're not joking anymore, huh?" I asked.

"No, Ed. Not today. Well, maybe I do have one. Get a girl sometime in your life, Ed. Hey, maybe you can go out with the princess." He laughed and readied his knife.

I laughed a bit too. But it wasn't even a real laugh. Another one dies tonight.

"Ed. It's been good. It's been real good." O'Reilly said.

I nodded. "It's been real good, buddy." He already made up his mind that he was going to die here. I was hoping that he would make it out alive. Maybe he would indeed take care of Bill.

He charged forward towards Bill. With a lunge, he tried his best to stab Bill in the chest, in the heart. Unfortunately, he didn't get the heart. He still got the chest, and Bill was slowed down by this, but that was the end for him. Bill took the knife and stabbed O'Reilly back, followed by a gunshot to the eye.

Something erupted in me. I knew that O'Reilly would not live. I knew it. Yet, a furious and bloodthirsty anger exploded inside me so hard that I quickly readied my sniper rifle. Taking aim, I knew that it was time to shoot. There were many people still around, but I was going to take my chances. Determination was fueling my accuracy and precision, it was time for Bill to die.

Ready.

Steady.

Aim.

...Fire.

The bullet got to him, hitting him right in the chest. He fell down, crouching on one knee. I walked up to him, still holding my sniper with a knife handy.

"Heh, you guys won, then." He said after fighting off so many forces.

We were not pleased. A man like this, with the skill of a Rangelus Guerrilla, taking down so many people. But I knew one thing. I shall bury him. He was strong, he was brave. I damn well had better give him a grave. Charles, you're a lucky man.

He laughed and then fell backwards, dying then and there. All the others went ahead. Westheld and I stayed behind.

But at the sight of O'Reilly's dead body, something in me snapped. I took my helmet and threw it against the wall. I took the supplies and threw them everywhere.

"FUCK THIS SHIT! DAMN IT ALL! FUCK!"

To the ground, to the walls, it didn't matter. I was just throwing them as hard as I could. While I was kicking boxes down, Westheld was trying to calm me down. I took my knife out and started to slash at the cloths all around. Tearing them up, making huge holes.

"GOD DAMN! THIS FUCKING WAR! A BUNCH OF SHIT!"

I took the knife and stabbed at the wall. I stopped, panting heavily.

"Ed, come on! You can't act like this!" Westheld said. "Look, I know it's unfortunate, but you can't be like this. You're a leader!"

I looked at O'Reilly, then Bill, and then Westheld. "I know..." I was still panting. "Something in me snapped. It might just...might just be because I've been here for so long and haven't released that kind of steam." I walked over to Bill's body. "Westheld, we're burying O'Reilly's body as well as Bill's body. Don't question why we have to bury Bill's. He was a tremendous fighter. He'll be honored by at least me."

We buried them both and headed forward. We fought the UM-7 Blasto that Gizel created and then the UM-0 Ultimatum. They were defeated, but the Kartels escaped. We went back to prepare for one final showdown. But before we did, I also buried Charles's other friend that I sniped earlier. This war is taking a heavy toll.


	15. Mission Briefing

Chapter 15: Mission Briefing

"The assault of the Kartel Supply Camp was a hard, but victorious battle. The Kartels were able to escape, but this means it's time for us to prepare ourselves for the final battle." Zeldine said to a large crowd. "It is time for Operation: Final Pursuit. It is time to catch Gizel. Without him, the Kartels will be near powerless to stop us. No more fighting between us. No more war!"

The huge crowd roared for the idea of no more war. I did not cheer. I had one friend left. I don't mind the idea of no more wars. In fact, I embrace it. I'm looking forward to it. But after all that I've been through, what good is life?

"We will be getting help from several skilled fighters. They were thought to be killed in battle, but we received news that they are very much alive. We have Agent Laini, General Navarre, Biyan, and Kon to help us. We are very lucky to have them there with us. Ghent Army, train hard for the next few days. After all of this, there shall only be one outcome, our victory!"

The crowd bellowed with excitement. Westheld and I just shifted gears and started to train ourselves right away. That's all we did. Train. Sure, we visited Oasis and Tori one last time before the big day, but we mostly just trained. One by one, my squad died away. And bit by bit, I'm going to make myself stronger. Terres, Friesly, O'Reilly, this is all for you guys. You guys were great in battle, nice drinking buddies, and definitely loving brothers. If we die during the operation, well, we'll be meeting each other again. I know I promised to stay alive for my family, but now, dying isn't as bad as it once was. I'll try my best to keep that promise, but if I die, then I die.


	16. Operation: Final Pursuit

Chapter 16: Final Operation: Final Pursuit

It was operation day. Ghent was pulling out all of the stops. There were a lot of Melvin's machines being transported to our destination. GSKs and GTs were everywhere. The designs on them differed from each tank as well. I took out a cigarette and lighted it. I didn't smoke much, but I felt like smoking then.

"Well Ed, it's just you and me." Westheld said, laying his hand on my shoulder.

"Indeed it is, Westheld." I replied.

"Ed, we gotta make a promise."

"And what would that be?"

"At the end of this, at least one of us has to live."

"What? Don't talk nonsense, of course we'll live."

"Hey, that's why I said at least. This is going to be a big one. They're practically throwing everything but the kitchen sink. I mean look at that. A bunch of mechs, at least 1,000 people here right now, even more reinforcements coming later. Casualties will be high, we both know it."

"Yes, Westheld. But come on now. We're just two guys out of the thousands of people here. What are the chances?"

"I suppose. But keep the promise anyways. If I die, you have to make it alive, and vice versa."

"Don't you worry, I don't plan on dying anytime soon. It's just that if I do die, then I die. That's it."

"Heh, the war sure changed us, huh?" He looked towards the clear blue sky. "The war changed them too."

"Yes, but if it wasn't for the war, we never would've met each other."

"If it wasn't for the war, they would be alive as well."

"Just can't win in life."

"Well, at least we proved ourselves to be better than we would think, right?"

"Yeah, we have. Heh, it's funny. When I first saw those Dungeon Fighters, I thought for sure they would handle everything. How foolish I was to think that."

"Hey, so did I. Pretty much everyone did. With how things were looking back then, it was like a miracle."

"Still, we were able to surpass even our own expectations. Tell me, have you ever heard of Rangelus's Guerillas?"

"The Guerillas of Rangelus? Of course. What makes you say that?"

"The squad we keep on facing. You know, the same squad that Bill guy was in. They're some tough people, I would say rivaling the Guerillas of Rangelus."

"Hm, well I do believe that. They killed a lot of our soldiers and even Dungeon Fighters."

"But you know, I think we're able to match up to them. I mean, we gave them hell during that South Ghent Gate mission. They killed our friends, we killed theirs. Makes you think, maybe we're just as good as the Guerillas of Rangelus as well."

"It is a nice thought. But I think it was mostly you."

"What, me? Nonsense."

"Well come on, Ed. There's a reason you're Sergeant. If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't be like this."

"Hm, I guess so. Still, it's weird that we keep on seeing each other. The Kartel squad and ours. It's like fate made it this way. But fate sure has a cruel sense of humor. A f***ing prick is what it is." I threw away my cigarette.

"Well, it's almost time for the final battle. Good luck to us all."

"Good luck to us all indeed."

One minute before the climactic battle, I took yet another cigarette. It was the battle of battles. Might as well smoke one more.

And then it was go time. We all charged forward. Nothing was stopping us this time. Today would be the final day. No more of this foolish war! Enough was enough! Kartel Soldiers, Fire Controllers, they were easy stuff. Grunts, useless grunts. That's what they all were. Even here though, there were clowns. I had enough of these clowns. They were pissing me to no end with this. Greenies were easily disposed of. But the most annoying one was the f***ing Carny. After seeing so many clowns, this was just unbearable. He would not easily go down. The amount of bullets he took was staggering. At one point, I just tripped him, stomped my foot on his belly, and just aimed with my sniper. A simple pistol would've done, but he deserved the sniper bullet. There is no mercy anymore.

There were two paths that split off from the main one. We divided up our numbers so that we could surround Gizel. As we progressed, we fought some decent Kartels. Just as we had suspected, casualties were already high. At least 300 Kartels, at least 200 Ghent people and Dungeon Fighters. On the way, we met up with a special Kartel. He called himself Raid Trooper Maron. People threw grenades, shot off rockets, Dungeon Fighters went in for the kill. However, this Maron guy was quite evasive. He reminded me of Jurren at North Ghent Gate. Sidestep a grenade here, dodge a rocket there, jump around the Elementalist attacks, slide from the melee attacks, he was skillful to say the least. He was able to kill at least 20. I already tried to shoot him down twice, but those missed. Third time's the charm, though, as I aimed for his head and the bullet penetrated his skull.

Explosions were everywhere. Mortars, grenades, rocket launchers, missiles, tanks. Casualties were even higher now. I estimated total casualties were at least 700 for Kartels and at least 500 Ghent soldiers and Dungeon Fighters. Our side was overpowering the Kartels. They were retreating once again. We followed them, but then a man stopped. He turned around and faced us. I recognized him. It was once again, Charles Miller. At the sight of this, I took out another cigarette and lit it up. I don't know. Maybe it's because I had some extras and I thought I was going to die soon. Who knew? Not me. Our troops and Dungeon Fighters surrounded him. Some of the Melvin's mechs surrounded him too. A woman got out.

Apparently, they were brother and sister. Seems there was some hostility between Charles and his family. Charles was dumped in the wastelands? By his parents? His sisters aren't any better. They weren't acting like this just because he was a Kartel. No, they acted like this long before he became a Kartel. Who really was the villain here? It can't be Ghent though...right? I was born with a loving mom and dad and sister. This has to be just a family problem. But...if this is true, then how many other Kartels became Kartels due to family pasts like Charles's? If Ghent was partly responsible for this, then I've been blind all these years. But I'm also not blind to the Kartels. Clearly Charles Miller wasn't all bad, but one man does not represent the entire organization. Either way, my thoughts stopped short as Charles took out a remote and pressed it.

"Now then, Army of Ghent and Dungeon Fighters, your princess has live bombs strapped to her. You've got fifteen minutes to beat me, grab my radio, and end this play. Before that, I have to ask, 'Heroes of Ghent, do you have enough ammo?'" As he said the last line, he charged at us, killing off his sister with his gun.

At this, everyone started doing everything they could to kill him. If you thought the explosions and gunfire was bad before, it was three times as worse here. He was an unstoppable killing machine. He was worse than Bill, it was like he was the living embodiment of determination. He was the cause for one of the biggest, if not the biggest, number of casualties in this war. At least 350 were dead, Ghent Army people and Dungeon Fighters alike. How could a man like him do this much damage? Grenades, mortars, tanks, cannons, rocket launchers, missiles, sniper fire, bullets, knives, magic, how can he survive? It's not like he was invincible though, he was clearly taking damage. But he wasn't dying, and that was the big problem. Killing everyone, exploding the tanks and shooting the pilots, he's not a regular Kartel. No, he was definitely the same as a Guerilla of Rangelus. If anything, I would say he's even stronger than some of the Guerillas.

Westheld and I tried to shoot him down. Me with my sniper, and him with his assault rifle. He ran out of bullets fast though and resorted to using the sniper rifle on his back. We spent several minutes trying to shoot him down, but to no avail. A bullet was moving toward us and broke through Westheld's scope, hitting him in the eye. He dropped down.

"Agh...my eye..." He was covering his right eye.

"Westheld, you okay?" I asked.

"Ugh, don't...think so. Agh, the pain...it hurts too much..."

"Come on, Westheld. You can survive this! You are _not_ dying here!"

"Ed...look into my eye." He uncovered it.

Bloodied, red, black hole. One eye full of life and hope, the other so empty that no light could ever pass. I looked away.

"It's the end. Everything is blurred..."

"No, no. You'll live. Come on, I'll carry you back!"

"Ed...keep that promise. I'm down, but you're not. Stay alive. Not only that. Keep your promise...to all of us. You gotta get back home. Alive."

"...This is the end?"

"It is." He gave me a final thumbs up and a smile. "I'm meeting up...with the others. Hey, don't worry. We'll also be...looking out over ya. It was a...good fight. To the very...end."

I returned the thumbs up and a weak smile. _No no no. No. Nononononno. This is a dream. It's all a dream. It's just a nightmare. I'll wake up any minute now. Ha, just a dream. Hahaha...haha._ I looked back to Charles. He was bleeding quite a bit.

"Everybody stop! Stop your attacks!" Everyone stopped. "He's mine."

"What the hell do you think you're doing? You'll get killed!" A random soldier exclaimed.

"Shut up! You think I care about that? He killed my last friend, it's extremely personal. So back the FUCK away or I'll kill you myself!"

Charles ran out of bullets to shoot. I took out my knife.

I charged at him. He parried my knife and tripped me.

"Ah, so it's down to just you and me, kid." He said.

"You killed my last remaining friend, you're going to pay for this!" I lunged at him again.

"Hah! That's the spirit, kid! But you only have seven minutes left. Now lets see if the new generation really does surpass the old generation!" He replied, parrying my attack once again and getting out his knife. We both jumped back and went into a CQC stance. This is it. One by one, my friends fell. Terres, Friesly, O'Reilly, Westheld. It's only me now. _I'm going to win this fight, and this war, for all of you guys. Give me your blessings, give me the strength and skill to win._

I punched him in the gut and face, knocking him to the floor. He countered by kicking me off. We exchanged blows and slashes. A cut on his shoulder, a cut on my leg, a punch to his face, a punch to my gut. He kicked me in the gut as well and I fell down. A flurry of punches exploded on my face. I kicked him off and slashed his left arm. I got another slash at his left leg. He grabbed my uniform and hurled me across the field. As he ran for a knife stab, I rolled away and kicked him once again. As he was down, I stomped on his belly several times and then gave three strong punches to his face. He retaliated with a slash to both of my arms. As he tried to grab me, I slashed his hand and dodged his grab. We fought for what felt like hours. Blood was everywhere. All over the ground and on our clothes, on our limbs and faces.

I tried to punch him, but he parried my attack, followed by a hit to my neck which stunned me. I knew this was the end for me. He had his knife, ready to strike me through the heart.

"Heh, it was a good fight, kid. Better luck next time. Don't feel too bad, you survived to give me a beating. Maybe we'll fight again in the next life."

This was it. My life was over. _Well my friends, it looks like I'll be joining you._

Suddenly, he kneeled down, gasping heavily. I was surprised by this, I had no idea what was going on. Then I looked at his injuries, he was still bleeding. Bleeding profusely. _Of course, with that much blood loss, there's no way he would've lived longer than now._

He took out the radio. "You guys have won. I've delayed you long enough as it is. Now go rescue your princess and take your rewards, Heroes of Ghent." He said with the remaining energy he had left.

Before he died, he whispered to me, "Make sure you guys take good care of my friend, alright?"

I didn't know who he was talking about at first, but then I realized it must've been the Princess. I nodded. "I will. Thanks for taking care of her."

"Hehe. Bang." He said, forming a small finger gun, before dying there, smiling. This was Charles Miller. A Kartel soldier who rivaled the Guerillas of Rangelus. He was not as cruel or evil as the other Kartels. No, he was a good human. I shall bury him along with Westheld. I shall honor all of them.

"You guys go and catch Gizel! I'll go find the princess." I told everyone.

"Are you sure? You're heavily wounded. We could get someone else to go or maybe some people to come with you." A random soldier said.

"No. You guys go catch Gizel. It was a personal battle between me and him. Now it's a personal visit to his friend. Now go!" I replied. They all left and carried onwards. I rested a bit and patched up my wounds. It'll be a somewhat painful journey to the Princess, but I'm fine with it.

"Hello? Princess? Are you there?" I asked into the radio.

"Yes! I'm here!" The princess replied.

I asked her where she was located and I went to go get her. After I found her, she gave me a hug, despite my dirty uniform.

"Tell me...is Charles Miller dead?" She asked.

I looked away. "...Yes. We fought each other during his final moments." I looked back at her and I could see the tears starting to appear.

"..I was hoping it wouldn't have to end this way." She said, tears starting to flow and her voice cracking. "He was my first friend when I got captured. He made life bearable."

I hugged her and held her close. She needs comfort now. After a while, I asked her, "Your Highness, do you want to help me bury my friend's and Charles's bodies?" I realized it was a crazy question, but I felt as though that she should see Charles once more.

"...Yes. I do." She replied.

We went back to their bodies and buried them into the ground. Charles still had the smile and a calm look on his face. The princess was holding a journal in front of Charles's grave.

"What's that?" I asked her.

"Oh this? It was Charles's journal. It was his life as a Kartel." She replied.

"May I take a look?" I asked.

"Sure." She said.

As I read through his journal, I was fascinated by what his life was. This was proof that not every Kartel was bad. I was right. Charles Miller was not bad. He was a good man. Gizel was caught later on, but I had no participation in it. No, I was by the Princess's side, reading Charles's journal, learning of the other side.


	17. The End of the War

This is the end! Thank you very much if you read every chapter so far. If you enjoyed it, then I'm glad. If you didn't, well I'll say thanks for reaching here still. This was a lot of fun to write and edit out with my partner. Once again, thank you very much!

* * *

Chapter 17: The End of the War

Several weeks passed by after the capture of Gizel. The Kartels could not beat us any longer. I became close friends with the Princess, she said I reminded her of Charles. I was okay with this, I think Charles saw a little bit of himself in me. As for me, I was able to go back home, alive. My mother and sister were so excited to see me come back that day. I was excited to see them too. I made it back!

But of course, I was still sad that my friends died. They will be missed. They will also be honored.

At a ceremony, the Princess awarded us Ghent's War God Medals. It was the highest rank of medal that one could get. My entire squad got it. Their pictures were hung in a War Hall in the Princess's castle.

One day, I went to the hall so that I could see my friends. Charles's squad was also there due to the help of the Princess. I took my journal here to write these last thoughts. I also had my pictures of us and Friesly's drawing. The Princess saw me in the hall and approached me.

"Hey Ed. What are you doing?"

"I'm just remembering the past. I can't believe everything happened the way it did."

"Yeah." She said. She looked at all the pictures, and leaned her head against me while focusing on Charles's picture. "What are you writing?" She asked after seeing me write in my journal.

"My very last entry to this journal. I want you to keep it, along with Charles's journal. Let everyone know both sides of the story."

"I will." She said.

"And these pictures too. Please keep them safe. Maybe put them in the same glass cases as these pictures."

"They're very nice pictures. Are you sure you want to keep them here?" She asked.

"I'm sure. I can always come here to see it. Besides, everyone else can see it too. They say that a picture's worth a thousand words." I saluted the pictures. "But those pictures, of my squad and of Charles's squad, they're worth a thousand memories."


End file.
